A Match Made in Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  It hadn’t escaped Doris June’s notice that her mother had kept everything about the house here livable. She still kept the electrical running and had the drapes all sealed away in plastic tubs in the corner of the living room. The wooden furniture had been left standing in its place. The books had been moved and all of the furniture, like the sofa and living room chairs, had been given away to neighbors long ago. But it wouldn’t take much to make the house usable again. Even if she never farmed the land, she would probably want to spend summers at the house like her family used to if she moved back to Dry Creek.

  It unnerved her though that Curt had mentioned the idea. The Curt she remembered never just mentioned anything. He had a definite opinion on everything. The fact that he hadn’t urged her to move back and open the house hadn’t escaped her notice. He’d asked the question very neutrally. That wasn’t like him. She wondered if it meant he was just seeking information and didn’t have an opinion.

  She shook her head. She didn’t see how she could move back to the farm. She’d see him driving his tractor around the land every spring and see him harvesting every fall.

  “Save some cookies for Doris June,” Charley said.

  Doris June finished drying her hands.

  “I was saving some,” Curt protested. He was holding the bag. “See, these are her three right here.”

  “Well, okay, then,” Charley said.

  “The kids are going to love these,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she held up one of the cookies. “I don’t think I’ve tasted a better oatmeal cookie, and here all these years you’ve been coming to me to get cookies.”

  “Well, I didn’t say I like to bake them. I’d rather brand a hundred calves than stir up a dozen cookies. I can hardly read the recipe anymore. And all of those teaspoons and tablespoons. I don’t know why they don’t just use a cup for everything.”

  Mrs. Hargrove looked at her cookie more closely. “You did measure things, didn’t you?”

  Charley nodded. “I didn’t want to, though. It about drove me crazy. And waiting to take them out of the oven. I think there should be a better way.”

  Curt smiled as he handed over the rest of the cookies to Doris June.

  Mrs. Hargrove and Charley walked out onto the porch.

  “You can see where I got my impatient nature,” Curt said to Doris June softly. “It’s a wonder I waited until you were seventeen to ask you to elope with me. I thought of it when I first got my license. You were so beautiful.”

  “You just want a share of my cookies,” Doris June said as she looked into the brown bag. She hoped her cheeks weren’t pink. She wasn’t sure how to take Curt’s teasing.

  Curt chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t say no to another one if you insist. I had no idea my dad could bake.”

  Doris June handed him one of her cookies. “Well, what did you think he did for meals before you moved home? He’d been on his own for years by then.”

  Curt nodded. “I never thought of that. He said he didn’t cook and I just started doing it. I thought maybe he ate with your mother or something.”

  “Every meal?” Doris June said. “And they didn’t have the café back then, either.”

  “I bet he can even make pot roast,” Curt said. “I came home early from plowing one day and he was pulling a pot roast out of the oven. I thought your mother had brought it over.”

  “Well, our parents can surprise us,” Doris June said as she took the last cookie from the bag. “At least, they don’t seem romantically inclined anymore.”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” Curt said. “I kind of miss it.”

  “You miss it?” Doris June took a bite of the cookie.

  Curt shrugged. “Yeah, I kind of thought maybe they’d go for it. I mean, they’ve been friends forever.”

  “Just because they’re friends, doesn’t mean they have any business getting married. Getting married is very complicated.”

  “Is it?” Curt asked.

  Doris June nodded. “It’s a business contract, for starters. There’s money involved and houses and things.”

  “I don’t think our parents would let those kinds of things stop them from getting married,” Curt said. “And, if they were worried about it, they could draw up a prenuptial agreement.”

  “Oh, I can’t see them doing something like that.”

  “Well, no, I can’t, either,” Curt said. “But, if they were worried about it, they’d have sense enough to do something like that rather than just not get married.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I know I would sign a prenuptial,” Curt said. “If the woman I was marrying had, say, a huge retirement account or a house or something. I wouldn’t let money stand in the way of getting married. Not after all this time.”

  “Well, no one said it should stand in the way,” Doris June said. “I’m just saying it’s a complication.”

  Neither Curt nor Doris June was aware that their voices were rising until Mrs. Hargrove stuck her head back in the kitchen. “Everything okay in here?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Doris June said. “We were just talking.”

  “Some hot topic,” Charley said as he joined Mrs. Hargrove in the doorway.

  “I think we need to go get another batch of pansies,” Curt said as he started walking toward the door. “The day will be gone before we know it.”

  Doris June walked with Curt to the door. When they were on the porch, Curt picked up the wheelbarrow and started to push it back to the pansy patch.

  Mrs. Hargrove watched her daughter and Curt make their way past both cars and down the road a little way to the flowers.

  “They think we’re deaf,” Mrs. Hargrove said.

  Charley grunted. “I don’t mind them arguing, but I don’t want them arguing over us.”

  “I’m not sure it was about us,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “Still, I don’t want them to get mad at each other before they have a chance to have a few good times together.”

  “I don’t know,” Charley said. “Those two always did do things their own way.”

  “Unless we stepped in, of course,” Mrs. Hargrove said.

  “Now, Edith,” Charley said. “I thought we agreed that we did the best we could back then. There’s no point in you continuing to feel guilty.”

  “I know. It just comes on me here and there,” Mrs. Hargrove said. She didn’t think Charley even realized he’d called her by her first name. She hoped he would do it more often. She kind of liked it.

  “Well, I guess if you feel guilty, you’ll at least have something to say at this concert when they want the people behind the stop sign to talk,” Charley said.

  “Oh, but that’s not us,” Mrs. Hargrove said in alarm. “That’s just Doris June and Curt.”

  “I don’t think that’s what the state guy said.”

  “Oh, but surely, he couldn’t have meant us. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  “Well, me neither,” Charley said. “That’s why I baked some cookies. So I could say I’ve already done my part.”

  “Oh, dear me,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “Maybe I should go home and bake cookies, too. I could make sugar cookies.”

  “I always did like your sugar cookies,” Charley said.

  “You’re not getting any. Not now that you can bake your own.”

  It took a few more hours to finish up enough pansy baskets that everyone agreed it was time to quit for the day. Ben and Lucy would be home from school and Doris June finally admitted that her back was beginning to hurt from bending over to pick up the pansies.

  “Well, you should have told me earlier that your back was feeling it,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “I could have switched places with you for a while. There’s nothing to this ribbon business.”

  Actually, Mrs. Hargrove had thought about going out and switching places with Doris June a couple of times, but then she’d heard bursts of laughter from the pansy patch and decided to wait.

  “We don’t need you to be bending like this,” Doris June said to her mother
from the doorway. “I’m glad you had me come down to help.”

  “You’re always a big help.” Mrs. Hargrove set down the scissors she was using to cut the ribbon and walked to where Doris June was standing.

  “We got most of the work done,” Curt said as he stepped onto the porch. “A little more tomorrow and we’ll be set.”

  Doris June nodded and stretched her back.

  “Give us a call when you know what time we should come over tomorrow,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she and Doris June started to walk toward their car.

  Mrs. Hargrove had seen the look in Curt’s eyes as he watched Doris June stretch and she finally knew that she and Charley had done the right thing by getting their kids together again. It wasn’t passion exactly that she’d seen in Curt’s eyes. It was more of a look of contentment. Curt was glad to have Doris June back. Of course, Mrs. Hargrove didn’t know how her daughter felt about being back. That could be a problem.

  Chapter Twelve

  Doris June almost felt like putting on her navy suit when she woke up Saturday morning. It was only six-thirty and she already felt the day was going to get away from her. Of course, even in her suit, she wouldn’t be in charge of the day, so she decided to stick with her jeans. She did iron a white blouse to wear simply because the day was going to end with a concert, and a white blouse would be dressy enough for that.

  Besides, white implied neutrality and she was trying to keep her emotions in that gear. She’d gotten a little off track talking with Curt yesterday, because he’d sounded so friendly. A time or two, she almost thought he was flirting with her. She couldn’t afford to mistake his friendliness for anything more than what it was, though, so she was going to do everything she could to keep things in the neutral zone.

  Her mother was still sleeping, so Doris June decided to walk over to the café after she got dressed. She figured Lucy would be there early. The teenager probably wouldn’t be waiting tables, but Lucy would have gotten a ride into Dry Creek when Linda came to work and she’d be using the café to organize the concert. It made sense. It’s what Doris June would do in Lucy’s place. Ben would probably be there, too.

  Doris June figured she had guessed right when she found Charley’s car parked near the café. She could hear the soft sounds of someone strumming on a guitar from inside the café. That had to be Ben practicing.

  It had rained some during the night and the ground was damp.

  The smell of coffee greeted Doris June when she set foot on the café porch. She scraped off her shoes and twisted the doorknob. The door opened easily and Doris June had a good view. It looked like everyone inside had already been awake for hours. At least they were already doing something productive.

  Linda was walking around talking into a hand-held phone. Lucy was marking out big black letters on a piece of white cardboard. It looked like she was making a No Smoking sign. Ben was sitting at a table in the corner, frowning to himself and playing a guitar.

  “But you’ve got to stop him,” Linda was saying into the phone as she gestured for Doris June to have a seat. “You had no right to ask him for that anyway.”

  “I hope nothing’s wrong.” Doris June took a seat at the table where Lucy was working. “Linda doesn’t sound too happy.”

  Lucy looked up from her cardboard. “She thinks Aaron has gone too far with all this publicity.”

  Doris June could still hear Linda complaining to someone on the phone.

  “I don’t see how he could have gone too far,” Doris June said, and she kept her voice loud enough so Linda could hear it if she chose. Maybe it would help Linda to hear another perspective. “He’s only had a day to get the word out. He probably had to move fast to get the schools in Billings lined up with what’s happening.”

  “He went for the news media,” Lucy said as she turned her cardboard sideways.

  “Well, I can’t imagine they’re very interested,” Doris June said, as much to comfort herself as to calm down Linda. “Just because Aaron sent out a press release, it doesn’t mean any paper will pay any attention to it. The concert will be over before they can send someone out to cover it anyway.”

  Linda pressed the disconnect button on the phone.

  “He’s asked for an endorsement from Duane,” Linda said as she stepped over to the table and sat down in a chair next to Doris June. She set the phone on the table in front of her.

  “Your Duane? The Jazz Man?” Doris June asked in surprise. “How would he expect to get an endorsement from him? As big as he is in the music world, the Jazz Man must have a publicist who screens those requests. He doesn’t even know Aaron.”

  “No, but he knows me.” Linda bit off her words in disgust. “And Aaron used my name. He didn’t even say it was him asking for the endorsement. So now Duane is going to think I’m trying to make money off him.” Linda looked around until she saw where Ben was playing guitar. “I already brought his old guitar into the café. Ben even found some old picks of Duane’s. We’re going to have a regular Graceland happening here if we’re not careful. Wouldn’t Duane get a laugh out of that?”

  “Well, I don’t think he’d know exactly.” Doris June offered what comfort she could. “Even if Aaron got through to Duane’s publicist, the concert is tonight. The publicist probably just collects these requests for endorsements and gives them to Duane once a month or so.”

  “Once a year would be better,” Linda muttered, and shook her head. “I can’t believe Aaron did that. I haven’t asked Duane for anything since he left. Not even his share of the rent for that month when he split, which technically he owed me since he didn’t give me notice or anything.”

  Doris June knew how the technicalities of a breakup could eat away at a person. She heard the sound of boots on the porch of the café. “I wouldn’t worry about Aaron. I don’t think he would have got too far with Duane.”

  The door to the café opened, but Doris June didn’t turn around to see who it was. She didn’t want Linda to think she wasn’t getting her undivided attention. Besides, Doris June already knew it had to be Charley or Curt entering the café Ben couldn’t have driven into town by himself.

  Doris June patted Linda’s arm. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

  “You’d be surprised what Aaron can do,” Linda said, and then hesitated. “He’s used your name, too.”

  “Me? I don’t even know Duane. Or anybody famous, for that matter.”

  Curt stood by the café door and watched the pink rise in Doris June’s face. He could hear her words plainly. She might not be famous, but she was sure pretty. He’d thought about her all last night. He was trying not to get ahead of God in this, but Curt thought things were going rather well between Doris June and him. They’d almost talked together like friends yesterday while they dug up pansies. He was beginning to hope they could work their way to becoming more than friends in time.

  Curt took a step further into the café, but he didn’t want to interrupt the women. Linda was already leaning closer to Doris June, as though she didn’t want to say her words too loud.

  “Aaron thinks you’re famous,” Linda finally said to Doris June. “Because you work for a television station.”

  “But I’m not even on the air,” Doris June answered in amazement. “Nobody’s famous in the sales department.”

  Linda shrugged. “All I know is that he called the station and got some weatherman there to promise to pass a picture of the concert on to the news team. He e-mailed the guy a press release to go with it. Aaron said the weatherman, a Mr. Jackson, spoke very highly of you.”

  “He’s going to give them a picture of Lucy and Ben singing?” Doris June clarified. “That’s okay. I’m sure the news team will say thanks, but no thanks, but he’s welcome to try. Anybody can try.”

  Linda shook her head. “You don’t understand. The only Anchorage angle is you. He’s going to give the weatherman a press release of you talking about eloping.”

  Curt wasn’t prepared for the look of absolu
te horror that came over Doris June’s face.

  “He can’t do that,” Doris June said. “I have to work with those people.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  “I think he already did it,” Linda finally said softly. “He threw together a news release from what he learned yesterday.”

  Doris June just sat there. Curt noticed that her face wasn’t pink anymore. It was as white as her blouse.

  “It’s not so bad,” Curt finally said as he walked closer to her and pulled up a chair. “Everybody does crazy things when they’re teenagers.”

  “I don’t,” Doris June said, and then caught herself. “Well, I did, I guess, but it wasn’t like me.”

  Curt had to admit he might have misread how much progress he’d made in his relationship with Doris June. He had thought she was starting to feel friendly toward him again, but she looked so appalled that she’d almost eloped with him twenty-five years ago that he was no longer sure how she felt. In fact, when he thought about it, he didn’t know if he should be insulted that she looked so horrified.

  “Maybe we can get it back,” Curt finally offered. He couldn’t waste his energy on worrying about insults. “I could call this weatherman and explain what happened—”

  Doris June looked even more stricken.

  “Or not,” Curt continued. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Doris June swallowed. “No, I can call and talk to Randy.”

  Curt frowned. Now that the weatherman had a name that didn’t start with Mr., he liked him even less. He must be a Randall or Randolph, so why didn’t the man just use his name? Randy sounded a little too cozy.

  “Do you have his phone number?”

  “I can reach him at the station.”

  “I don’t suppose he’s married?” Curt asked, just to be sure he wasn’t getting bothered by something he shouldn’t be.

  Doris June shook her head as she stood up. “I don’t know what I panicked for. I just need to go back to Mom’s place and call the station. Randy owes me a favor anyway. He’ll keep the news release to himself.”